


Shut Up

by CastellanGarak



Series: The Way He Speaks [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cloacal Sex, Dukat sucks like a pro, Dukat won't shut the fuck up, Gentleness, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Uniform Kink, he has a lot of experience sucking in life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastellanGarak/pseuds/CastellanGarak
Summary: prompt: oral fixation, gentleness"I'm not asking for a relationship or anything. It's just--the sex was good, so why not have it when we can?"Garak keeps his face carefully blank."Oh, was it?” he scoffs. “For you, maybe. I, on the other hand, was left distinctly unimpressed."





	Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas <3

Garak gets home from work and slumps onto the couch, worn out and in a bad mood. It had been one annoying customer after another, and he would be happy to not have to deal with another living being for the rest of the evening. He seats himself firmly on the couch, takes his shoes and socks off, and swings his feet up onto the couch, shifting and reclining into a more comfortable position. Grabbing his padd from the side table, he is just deciding what to read when the door buzzes. 

"Enter," Garak says. The doors slide open.

"Hello, lover," Dukat says, leaning seductively against the door jam.

Garak hisses and springs up, darting over to Dukat and dragging him inside. "Don't  _ say _ that where people can hear you!" The door slides shut, and Dukat leans back against it, smirking.

"What do you want?" Garak asks.

"We haven't seen each other in weeks,” Dukat shifts his weight and his eyes flick away from Garak's for a moment. “But now that I'm back on the station, I thought we could catch up." 

Garak sighs. "Dukat, I am not in the mood." He rubs his forehead tiredly, attempting to alleviate the migraine beginning to form.

"Headache?" Dukat asks, and brings his hands up to Garak's temples and rubs with gentle pressure.

Garak jerks his head back "What the  _ fuck _ do you think you are doing?" he demands, shoving Dukat's hands off himself and stepping away from him. Dukat follows, keeping himself scant inches from the other Cardassian.

"I give good head massages. Might help with your headache."

"I didn't say you could touch me." Garak says.

"Do you treat all your lovers this way?" Dukat asks archly.

"We are not _ lovers."  _ Garak snaps.

"Hmmm," Dukat says, eyes flicking up to Garak’s jawline, "I remember differently." He gently pulls a strand of Garak's hair between his fingers and twirls it absently.

Garak twists and shoots a hand upwards to shove Dukat against the door by the throat, pressing hard. Dukat gasps and instinctively claws at the fingers perfectly capable of cutting off the blood supply to his brain. 

"Stop  _ touching _ me." Garak hisses. "Just because we fucked it does not make us lovers, and it does  _ not _ give you unconditional access to my body."

"Doesn't it?" Dukat asks, raising an eyeridge.

"It doesn't!" Garak insists, pressing harder, nearly cutting off Dukat's air supply.

Dukat jerks as if he were shocked, and then groans, leaning into Garak's hand. "Harder," he manages to gasp out.

"Oh, ugh," Garak says, quickly letting him go.

"That was fun," Dukat says, rubbing at his throat. "Wanna do it again?” His eyes flick down to Garak’s hands and he stares hungrily.

"Absolutely not," Garak says, in disgust. "I do not want to do anything with you, you hormone addled  _ hound _ , unless it's the both of us saying a curt 'goodbye', and feeling comfortable in the knowledge that we'll be promptly heading off to find a stiff drink.  _ Separately. _ ”

"Awww, but we had so much _ fun _ last time!"

"Hm," Garak says. "Back for more, then?"

"And if I am?"

"Then you'll be disappointed. We had a one night stand, let's leave it at that." He presses his palms firmly into Dukat's armoured chest, pushing him back towards the door. 

"Wait, listen!" Dukat says desperately, digging his heels in. "I'm not asking for a _ relationship _ or anything. It's just--the sex was good, so why not have it when we can?"

Garak keeps his face carefully blank.

"Oh, was it?” he scoffs. “For you, maybe. I, on the other hand, was left distinctly unimpressed. It was your first time doing that, and it showed."

"Garak!" Dukat gasps out, eyes dilating.

"For the love of hearth and home," Garak says exasperatedly. "Get the fuck out." 

Dukat obeys, both visibly humiliated, and visibly aroused, neck ridges dusting a few shades darker by the moment.

Once the door slips shut behind him, Garak goes to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a drink. Then he goes back to the couch, picks up his abandoned padd, settles in, and reads. Eventually, his eyes begin to burn as they slide across the screen. He goes to bed, pulling the covers up past his chilled nose, and curls his knees up to his belly in a futile effort to conserve heat. He falls into unconsciousness.

\----

Garak's eyes snap open and he reaches for the phaser he keeps under his pillow. He does a quick scan of the room to determine what woke him, but finds nothing.Suddenly there’s a pounding at the door. "Time?" Garak asks the computer, voice hoarse from sleep. "02:44," it chirps back, sending a flash of pain forking through Garak’s distinctly un-chipper skull. Garak picks up the phaser and heads for the door. He braces himself, and opens it. Garak blinks, surprised to see Dukat standing outside his quarters. Dukat's eyes flit down to the phaser in his hands.

"Are you going to shoot me?" he asks.

"I should," Garak says. "I'm sure I told you to leave me alone. What are you doing at my quarters at 03:00?"

"I couldn't stay away," Dukat says, stepping into Garak's personal space. He gets close enough that Garak can smell the kanar on his warm breath. Garak leans away and scrunches up his nose.

"For the love of-! you're drunk!," he says in disgust. “I said to have a  _ drink _ , not a  _ bottle _ .”\

"Mmm," Dukat says, "Can I come in?"

"You're already in," Garak says, vexed.

"Huh. So I am." Dukat says, and staggers to the couch.

Garak gapes at the audacity, but realizes he should have expected nothing less. "Why don't you make yourself at home," he says, rolling his eyes. Quietly slipping the phaser on the side table and locking the door, he then turns around to see Dukat struggling with his armor. "Oh, by the Union, don't!"

"Help me," Dukat pleads, holding his arms up.

"I think not." Garak drolls, unamused

Dukat seems to have some drunk epiphany, and his mouth forms a surprised “O”. His eyes fall to half lid, and he quirks an eyeridge suggestively. "You'd rather I keep it on while we fuck?" Dukat asks, lips crooking into a smirk.

Garak reluctantly feels a twinge of interest. There was something so  _ sexy _ about the Central Command uniforms. They had always been a prominent feature in certain fantasies of his. But still, Garak had his pride. Well perhaps not, there were certain things worth more than pride. Getting the job done, and  _ surviving _ the job for example, but this was no job. When it came to Dukat he was well within his rights to hold himself to a higher standard. That bar was simply  _ too _ low. Even in the company of aliens and exiles the Gul was a degenerate. 

"We're not fucking," he says flatly.

"We'll see about that," Dukat says, cocking one corner of his mouth up, showing off a couple sharp pearls of his teeth. Grunting, he gives up on his armor, slumping over to attempt taking off his shoes and socks instead, and succeeding finally. He fumbles at his fly, fingers struggling for the zipper's tab.

"Stop undressing!" Garak hisses, tearing over and pressing down on Dukat's hands to stop their movement. Dukat turns his hands over and laces their fingers together. "What the fuck," Garak whispers, frozen in shock. 

Dukat takes the opportunity to grip him and tug him into his lap, luckily managing to keep Garak from having any less than ideal encounters with the furniture. Sneaking his hand up under Garak's pajama top, and kissing along his neck, Dukat hums. Garak squirms away from the sudden sensation, and gasps. "Dukat, stop, your chest plate is digging into me."

"Sorry," Dukat says, snidely, and doesn't stop.

Garak hisses, pushing at his chest and scrambling to his feet, pointedly brushing himself off and glaring down at Dukat. "I should kick you out." 

Dukat sprawls himself out on the couch, flopping an arm up along the back and looks up at him, radiating satisfaction. "If that's really what you wanted, you'd have done it already."

Garak bites his lip, annoyed that Dukat is right, praying to gods he does not believe in for some distraction to come and swallow him up before he can make such an awfully regrettable choice. Garak sighs. "Okay. Come on then," he manages to choke out, voice thick, extending a hand to help Dukat up. Dukat takes it. He stands up, too quickly, and then stumbles. "Oh dear," Garak says, steadying him, moving a hand up, grounding him by his neck ridge. "Are you sure you're equipped to do this right now? Perhaps after you've sobered up." Garak lets the hand slide down over Dukats chest, then steps back, putting some space between them.

"No," Dukat says firmly. "You'll have changed your mind by then."

"You’re probably correct. Hmmmm," Garak says thoughtfully, turning his back to Dukat. He considers what positions they can feasibly do with Dukat in this state. He looks over his shoulder, then turns back around. "Get on the floor."

Dukat does, and then looks up at Garak trustingly. Garak feels a pang of some emotion he cannot identify. If their positions were reversed, if Garak were drunk, and in Dukat's quarters, and knew Dukat had a phaser. Garak would not be this trusting. He would not be trusting at all. And yet Dukat is. He’s right there at Garak’s feet, pleading up at him, somehow both the furthest thing from innocent, and irritatingly naïve.

Garak feels a rush of anger, and drops down to roughly shove Dukat onto his back and attempt to wrench his pants off. "Garak," Dukat says breathily. Garak ignores him, and pulls his pants the rest of the way off. "Garak," Dukat says again.

"What," Garak snaps.

"I want a kiss," Dukat pouts.

"Ugh," Garak says, and then starts to get his own clothes off. He makes quick work of it, knowing Dukat will start to complain if he takes too long.

"Garak-" Dukat whines.

"-I won't kiss you. Your armor gets in the way," Garak says, and then hisses, for he hadn't meant to say it like that. Hadn't meant to imply the only thing stopping him was the armor. He should  _ not  _ want to kiss Dukat, yet he does.

"I'll take it off," Dukat says, pulling him from his thoughts.

"No." Garak says, "You said we could fuck while you wear it." 

Dukat lets out a breathy laugh. "I was joking, before. I didn't realize you'd actually be into it."

"Oh, shut up," Garak says, scales darkening in a blush.

"So you like a man in uniform," Dukat goes on, unadulterated, smug, joy taking over his face, making him glow with a disgusting attractiveness only he could possibly hope to achieve 

"Dukat, on my father's grave, be quiet."

Garak feels Dukat sit up, and draw his lips close to Garak’s ear.

"Make me.” 

His hot breath ghosts pleasantly across Garak’s skin, making him bite his lip, eyes fluttering shut involuntarily. He forces them back open, and is puzzled to find that he has tangled his fingers into Dukat’s hair, keeping him close. Embarrassed, he tightens his grip, and roughly tugs Dukat by the hair, forcing some space between them. Dukat looks at him intensely, eyes half lidded. “With a kiss, maybe?”

Garak is suddenly overcome with the want of it--frantically,  _ desperately.  _ He begins to fumble with the clasps of Dukat’s armor, hands clumsy with desire. “Oh,” Dukat says, “But I thought--”

“Shut up,  _ shut up _ ,” Garak says, separating the interconnected pieces of the chest plate, and leaving them scattered across the floor like the petals of a flower. 

He presses Dukat against the foot of the couch to steady him, leans over to kiss him silent. Dukat kisses back, technique somewhat sloppy from the drink, but Garak does not  _ care _ , he just wants more.

Soon it’s not enough, and he breaks the kiss so he can get closer, legs interweaving with Dukat’s, chest pressing to Dukat’s. Dukat’s breath stutters out of him-- “Oh,” he says. “Y-you’re  _ dripping _ .” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Garak says, grinding against Dukat’s thigh.

“G-Garak--” Garak cuts him off with another kiss, groaning deep in his throat at the taste of him, detectable beneath the sharpness of the kanar. His jaw works as he deepens the kiss, one hand pressed to the couch, the other cupping the back of Dukat’s head, fingers tangled in his hair to keep him in place.

After several minutes Garak breaks the kiss again and lets go of Dukat’s head so he can wriggle his hand between them and get at his own slit, slipping his fingers inside. He drops his head to Dukat’s shoulder as he fingers himself, moaning breathlessly into Dukat’s ridges. And then Dukat is pulling him off of his shoulder and to his mouth, and he shoves his tongue gracelessly into Garak’s mouth, sure of his entrance, and Garak shudders, and comes, before he’s even everted. Garak rides it out, passage clenching tightly around his fingers, and then slumps against Dukat, resting his head on his shoulder yet again.

“Oh,” Dukat says, cupping the back of Garak’s head absentmindedly, carding his fingers through his hair. “Did you-”

“Yes,” Garak says. “Shut up.” 

“Um.” Dukat says, scritching his fingers against Garak’s scalp. Garak leans into his touch, purring. “Should I just-”

“Wanna fuck me?” Garak interrupts. “I want to ride you, but I’m too tired. Long day. And then some asshole rudely woke me in the middle of the night.”

“Hmmm. I suppose he should make it up to you, then,” Dukat says.

“It would only be fair.”   

Garak gets shakily to his feet, and carefully navigates between fallen pieces of armor, and towards the bed. Dukat follows, navigating with less attentiveness, and cursing when he nearly slips. Garak looks back over his shoulder, lips quirking up in amusement, and then climbs up onto the bed, arranging his pillows and then lying down. Dukat climbs up after him, and then leans down to kiss him, splaying his hand across Garak’s jaw to angle his head how he wants it, the other posessively clutching his thigh.

Garak sighs into the kiss, and slides his arms around Dukat, pulling him close. He feels less frantic now that the edge has been taken off. Pleasure blooms in his stomach, slow and sweet, and then sharp, as Dukat skims the tips his fingers gently across Garak’s skin, from thigh to groin, and teases at the lips of his slit for a moment, before easing them inside. They immediately get coated in Garak’s cum, even more oozing out his slit.

“Hmm,” Dukat says against his mouth, and then slides his fingers out and breaks the kiss so he can slide down Garak’s body and to the foot of the bed. Garak gets up on his elbows and looks down at him, eyeridges scrunching together in confusion. Dukat pushes his thigh up so he can get to his slit, and puts his mouth there. Garak groans, and lets himself fall back to the bed. Dukat laps up the cum that had oozed out, and then chases it to the source, slipping his tongue inside to get at the rest. 

Garak twists his hand into the bedsheets. “Dukat,” he gasps out, thighs trembling. Dukat hums in reply, and the vibration makes Garak’s head fall back, eyes rolling up. Dukat angles his head and slides his tongue in even deeper, nudging it against the tip of Garak’s cock. It starts to evert, and Dukat curls his tongue around it, coaxing it out patiently, and soon Garak fully everts with a sigh.

“That was nice,” he says, “now are you finally going to fuck me?”

“I don’t know,” Dukat says, “I think I like it down here.” 

Garak hisses and tangles his fingers in Dukat’s hair, tries to pull him back up. Dukat ignores this, and sucks his cock back into his mouth, sinking down until his nose is pressed to Garak’s chuva. Dukat slides his fingers back into Garak’s passage, and Garak’s toes curl. Garak’s fingers, which are still tangled in Dukat’s hair, are now pressing him, rather than away, insistently closer.

Dukat hums, and sets up a slow rhythm. Garak tries to urge him on, but Dukat ignores this too. Garak groans in frustration, throwing his head back against the pillows and gritting his teeth. Dukat laughs. “Oh, shut up,” Garak says. “Even with your mouth full of cock, you won’t shut up.” Dukat looks up at him and drags his teeth lightly along his cock in retaliation. Garak hisses in pain, “You absolute asshole.” 

Dukat pulls off his cock with a wet pop. “You’re one to talk.”

“Shut up and put your mouth to better use.”

Dukat hums and lowers his head, bypassing Garak’s eager cock, and sucking at his hip.

“Not what I meant, and you know it.” 

Dukat trails kisses from his hip to his torso, makes his way up his chest, and nips at his chula, dipping his tongue inside. 

“This is weird...You're acting weird.” Garak says, squirming uncomfortably at Dukat’s bizarre tenderness.

“You said to seduce you,” Dukat says.

“Alright, you’ve seduced me. Now fuck me,” Garak says, wrapping his legs around Dukat’s waist. 

“If you insist,” Dukat says, lining up, and pushing inside. He begins to fuck Garak in slow, gentle rolls of his hips, and Garak gasps and scrabbles at Dukat’s chest, trying to anchor himself. Dukat grabs his hand and presses it to the bed by Garak’s head, tangling their fingers together and holding it there. 

Dukat presses his chufa to Garak’s for a moment, and then nudges Garak’s nose to the side so he can get to his mouth. He presses a gentle kiss to Garak’s trembling bottom lip, and then his upper, and then he is delving his tongue inside, and tangles it with Garak’s. Garak groans like he is dying, and clenches around Dukat, another orgasm wrenched out of him. “Oh, again?” Dukat asks with surprise. “You have a hair trigger tonight.”

“For the last time, shut up! And keep going!”

Dukat does.


End file.
